


i heard you tell your friends (that i’m just not your type)

by palermos



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Divorce, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Kippen Siblings, Kira sucks, M/M, T. J. Kippen & Amber Are Twins, Tyrus - Freeform, amber and cyrus are gay lesbian solidarity, it's not the kids, mentions of guns, soulmate au - you can't lie to your soulmate, there's swearing because u know, they teens, they're trying ok, tj has many a crisis, tj kippen is a gay disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-10 06:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palermos/pseuds/palermos
Summary: all tj does is lie. he lies to his friends about his sexuality, he lies to his sister about the bruises that she keeps seeing on his face and knuckles, and he lies to kira every time he tells her he loves her.in the end, there’s no harm, right? because one day high school will be a blip on his radar, and tj will never have to admit how little he’s known by the people around him or how much of himself he’s terrified to reveal.and then comes cyrus. and okay, maybe he's a little screwed.





	i heard you tell your friends (that i’m just not your type)

**Author's Note:**

> hi i had a long ass note but it got deleted so basically this was originally supposed to be a very soulmate heavy au fic, but as i kept writing i figured i wanted it more as a re-examination of canon instead, in a high school setting. i hope you enjoy this fic, as it's the longest one i've written in a while (i know it's short don't @ me) ANYWAYS PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOS IF YOU CAN !!!
> 
> this is for miss lily. enjoy :)

Amber is so done with his shit. 

That much is clear, or maybe it’s always been. Every time he mentions Reed or Marty or anything to do with the basketball team, she scowls. Literally scowls, like an old man in those stupid British soap operas Marty keeps making him watch. 

He wants to be honest with her, he does. But it’s simply not an option. 

“You’re sulking.” He singsongs, as they walk home from school. She simply, well, scowls.

“Did Reed give you those bruises?” She snaps, glaring at the bruise on his cheekbone, pleading for a real answer. 

“Nah. I caught an elbow practicing for the game on Friday, that’s all.” It comes as it always does, easily. It’s easy to ignore the pang of guilt, and it’s easy not to be hurt by the way Amber is looking at him. 

“Sure.”

They walk in silence after that, as he stares at his shoes and Amber stares at the road, watching the cars. Neither of them like it in Shadyside. They’ve lived in the same house their entire lives. It’s more empty now, with their dad gone and their mother constantly in bed. 

TJ often feels like they’re a byproduct of a lack of love, or at least, he is. 

Everything is the same, and this day is no exception. 

Amber unlocks the front door, made of a vintage oak their father had specially imported from somewhere, probably for an overly expensive price, and they greet an empty house. When his friends ask him how his night was, or if his mom is as much of a bitch as theirs, he always lies. It’s easy. 

“Yeah, she cooked the worst casserole last night.” 

_Lie. He and Amber learned how to cook for each other a long time ago. Their mother makes a rare appearance at family dinners or gallery openings. Relationships with wealthy acquaintances are important, relationships with your children? Not so much._

“She’s always telling me to do my homework, it’s so fucking annoying.” 

_Lie. He’d be surprised if his mother emerged from her divorce induced stupor long enough to remember what grade her children were in. Amber’s dance recitals, TJ’s basketball games? She’s always conveniently busy, that’s what he tells Reed. _

“She had some important conference, it’s whatever.”

_Lie. He would do anything to have her watch a game. Just one._

TJ lies about his father too. When his friends ask, it’s easier to be dishonest.

“He couldn’t come, he wanted to, but Maine is too far away to come for just a basketball game.” Or an awards ceremony, or even a funeral. 

_Lie. His father lives a town over with his new wife and perfect children. He’s a good father, just not to TJ and Amber._

He spends the afternoon doing his homework, or, more honestly, watching the numbers float gently in between the margins, taunting him. That’s another thing he’s always lying about. He isn’t just bad at math, he’s borderline hopeless. Every test, every time he gets closer to failing the course, he risks revealing just how hard he’s trying and how little it pays off. 

He isn't like Amber. He’s not brave enough to ask for help. He’d rather been seen as a stone-faced mystery than an actual teenager. Amber sees through this, and always says as much, but she’s always trying to figure him out. 

Maybe he can’t be mended, fixed with therapy or alcohol or whatever Amber has used to make herself a fully functioning child of a nightmare divorce. Maybe she knows that. But she keeps prying at his corners, and he wants to be honest with her. He can’t be, though. Lying is second nature at this point, and even she can’t bring him back from that.

TJ has done a total of three math questions in the entire four hours they’ve been home by the time she calls him for dinner. As it’s a Monday, it’s her day to cook, and she’s a lot better at making aesthetically appealing dishes than he is. His cooking is practical, but it isn’t pretty.

“We have a guest.” She says and looks at him like he should already know this, despite the fact they are both fully aware of the fact that no one is ever invited over. That’s an unspoken rule. 

_No one can comment on your parents if they’ve never been to your house to see the lack of them. _

“You know him,” Amber says, a matter of factly, ignoring his initial shock. “Cyrus, you know, Buffy’s friend?”

He knows Buffy Driscoll pretty intimately, which is somewhat shocking if you take into account their long-standing animosity. She’s what he wishes he was, in almost every way. Her confidence in herself is awe-inspiring, and he’d tell her that if he hadn’t ensured she’d despise him by making her first year on the team a living hell. 

They’re better now, but TJ is not sure he’ll ever earn her respect. He definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

_He’s a good liar and a bad person. Buffy might be the only one who has ever truly seen that. _

_A close friend of hers at his house? What a treat._

Cyrus is sitting at the head of the table when Amber and TJ emerge from upstairs. His smile is sweet, but he looks genuinely uncomfortable to be in the very clearly nearly empty house.

“Hi!” His smile makes TJ freeze for a second, just to bask in its warmth. He doesn’t mind Cyrus, and that is a very bad sign. He shoots the boy a half-smile and turns to Amber to explain his presence, which she still fails to do. Figures.

“So,” Cyrus starts, his eyes darting to the beautiful pot of Spaghetti Bolognese in the middle of the table, “will your mom be joining us?”

Amber starts to say something, but TJ isn’t paying attention. He opens his mouth to form some sort of lie, an easy excuse, but instead —

“She’s in bed. Probably knocked out on painkillers.” 

“Oh.” 

_The silence is deafening, but TJ isn’t focused on Amber’s uncharacteristically surprised expression. He’s wondering how the hell he decided saying that was a good idea._

Amber clears her throat, and the excruciating awkwardness is stifled.

“Who wants dinner?”

Cyrus’s smile is easy, and his response is quick. “Please!” He’s so clearly relieved by the change of subject, TJ finds it slightly (okay, majorly) adorable.

Amber and Cyrus talk about their project for psychology as they eat, leaving TJ to his thoughts. He’s watching Cyrus, the way he talks so animatedly even when he’s in the process of taking a bite of spaghetti. 

Dinner passes quickly, and TJ is halfway up the stairs when he hears Cyrus say his name. 

“Maybe we could ask TJ’s opinion? It’d be good to hear another point of view.”

He freezes, and Amber scoffs. “TJ is seriously uninterested in anything to do with school, I doubt he’d help—“

“What’s up?”

His sudden descent is a shocker, which is clear by the squeak Cyrus lets out. 

“I think your opinion would be invaluable to our project, but Amber says that’s you’re too cool for school.” 

Neither Cyrus nor TJ can comprehend why he’s speaking like a nerd in a public service announcement, but Amber stifles a laugh.

He means to reply with some vague excuse, that school just isn’t his _number one priority._

“School is really important to me,” TJ starts, his words flowing on their own accord. “I’m just not smart enough for that to show.” 

Amber’s expression is almost comical, a magnified look of absolute disbelief. 

“Jesus, Teej, you’re avoiding avoidance today, huh?”

Cyrus is quiet for the rest of the night. 

...

_Tuesday is fairly uneventful,_ he sits next to Kira in Chemistry (ironic, no?), and ignores how uncomfortable it feels to have her hand rubbing circles on his back. She’s not one to take no for an answer, TJ learned that in sophomore year when she said, _“Are you gonna ask me out, or should I tell everyone you’re gay?”_

At the time, he thought it was a tasteless joke. Now the relationship just feels like penance. They’ve been together for two years, and he just feels like he’s an item on a perfectly organized checklist rather than someone she genuinely cares for. 

TJ supposes he’s like his mother. He still feels the need to keep up appearances, even when the rest of his life is crumbling. 

That afternoon, he kisses Kira goodbye and meets Amber in front of the school. She’s fidgety, which is unusual, considering Amber is almost always scarily serene. 

“I’m going on a date,” she hums, looking mortified to be telling her brother, “So I need you to take Cyrus to our house.” 

She doesn’t let him ask a question, nor get a single word in. “He needs to work on the project, and it’s all at our house. Don’t freak him out, kay?” 

TJ can’t even answer, Amber simply spins on her heel and waves at a girl with a pixie cut, Andi, he thinks her name is. 

He blinks, and they’re both gone.

“TJ!” He’s roused from his Amber induced comatose by a voice of pure sunshine, which obviously belongs to Cyrus. “I’m really sorry about this, I offered to do my work later, but she really wanted me to do it while she was with Andi, even though I’m slightly intimidated by you and your honesty.”

_His honesty? TJ is many things, but honest is not one of them._

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m going to stop talking now because clearly, I’m digging myself a grave.”

_‘It’s fine’, he means to say, ‘Amber trusts you’._

Instead, his brain decides to say, “I’m really not an honest person, Cyrus. But I want you to like me, so I’ll pretend you’re right.”

“You want me to like you?” Cyrus is soft, his eyes wide. TJ finds himself mirroring his expression. Fuck.

“Let’s get going.” He says, casting a glance at the sky. “Looks like rain is coming.” 

Cyrus nods, but he still looks somewhat shell-shocked. “I want you to like me too.” He whispers, almost inaudible. TJ isn’t even sure Cyrus is talking to him. 

They start walking, silence settling in between them, both too lost in thought to attempt to make stilted small talk.

The rain starts slowly, light dribbling. It’s gentle, so TJ can ignore the fact that neither of them are dressed for this weather. In fact, in his button-up, Cyrus already looks like he’s freezing. 

_More silence, harder rain. _

It’s pouring by the time he opens the oak door, and the first thing he says to Cyrus, after fifteen minutes of silent huddling for warmth is “I’ll get some clothes you can borrow.” He drips up the stairs, whispers a greeting to his mother, and gets Cyrus a warm towel and the softest hoodie and sweatpants he owns. 

_Why the fuck is he being so tender?_

“Thank you.” Cyrus’s smile is grateful, and silently TJ makes a note to remember it. 

‘It’s no problem,” he thinks, watching Cyrus dry his hair, “it looks better on you anyway.” 

Then, with this thought, three things happen. 

  1. Cyrus’s head snaps up, almost like he’s been shot.
  2. TJ comes to the conclusion that his mouth may have betrayed him, which at this point is not a surprise anymore, Jesus fuck. 
  3. TJ reacts as poorly as humanly possible, muttering a quick “there’s a bathroom down the hall, to the left”, and bolting up the stairs to his room. He is in fact, still soaking wet. 

When he’s dressed in his (second) coziest clothes, and somewhat more put together, he decides to check on Cyrus. 

_Apparently, this is a good idea, because Cyrus appears to be having a crisis._

“Are you okay?” 

Cyrus jumps, the concern on his face giving way to fear, which settles when he realizes he isn’t in imminent danger.

“I always look like I’m in crisis,” Cyrus says, which is not what he intended to say, evident in the sound of his hand hitting his face. “Sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” TJ’s legs move of their own accord, and he’s suddenly very aware of how he’s entered Cyrus’s personal space. He’s about to step back, and stumble through an apology—

Cyrus’s hand wraps around his wrist. An anchor. The storm in his head is momentarily eased. 

He swears it’s instinct, the reason he leans forward, the reason his free hand traces the line of Cyrus’s jaw, a movement the other boy leans into. TJ is absolutely captivated by him, in the way that he’s honest with himself. 

They’re so close, tantalizingly so. It’s a game of chicken, and TJ has no intention of backing down, a realization so jarring that he momentarily forgets who he is, where they are, and leans in—

_And then the lock clicks, and reality hits. _

He & Cyrus spring apart with such force that it’s a wonder Amber doesn’t notice, as she enters the living room with Andi (he thinks that’s Andi?) in tow. 

He doesn’t miss the look of hurt in Cyrus’s expression, though guarded. The truth lies heavy between them: TJ jumped back first, and both of them know it.

His sister takes one look at them, at Cyrus’s borrowed clothes, and rolls her eyes.

“What happened to you?”

“Flash flood-“ TJ says, at the same time that Cyrus says “Monsoon-“, and despite the situation, TJ finds himself breaking into giggles, Cyrus soon following. 

Amber looks utterly unimpressed, and it’s then that TJ becomes fully aware of Andi in his living room, and her fingers interlaced with Amber’s. 

After that, he retreats to his room and turns to reruns of Father Brown (Marty’s shows have grown on him) as comfort, while Andber (Andi & Amber) and Cyrus work on the psychology project he still doesn’t quite understand. 

So, his Tuesday is wild. 

…

On Wednesday, he’s greeted by Kira, lovely as always. The hallway is empty, the bell finished ringing, and he’s trying to get his textbooks. 

“I saw you walking home with Cyrus yesterday,” Kira says as she approaches, tone vaguely threatening, “Is that why you couldn’t come out with us yesterday?”

Us is Kira, Reed, and Lester. None of which he particularly enjoys the company of, especially that of his girlfriend. 

“Yeah, sure.” It’s noncommittal, as always, and Kira looks irritated, but somewhat smug, as always. 

“It’s a good thing you’re dating me, Kippen. If you weren’t, I’d think you were dating that kid.” She says the words with such sugary venom, he almost recoils. 

“He’s our age,” TJ responds, which is clearly not how Kira expects him to react. “What the fuck do you have against him, anyway?”

“Lester says—“

“What? That he’s gay? Grow up. You’re not being cute. Just homophobic.” 

She’s as shocked by his outburst as he is, and for once in their entire stupid relationship, Kira is speechless. 

_Good._

“I think this-” he starts, gesturing at the two of them, at Kira’s rapidly changing expression, “whatever the fuck this was, is over.”

He’s halfway down the hallway when Kira finally finds her voice, and it echoes down the corridor. “We help each other, Kippen. You leave, and I stop helping you.” 

_Yes, she helped him all those times she tried to distance him from Amber._

_And all the times she guilted him into staying with her._

_And the way everything he did was held over his head. _

“Thanks, Kira. But no thanks.” He’s slightly impressed by how controlled his voice is, and with his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie, it’s impossible to see how hard they’re shaking.

He thinks Kira says something else, something about Reed, but he wills himself not to listen, not to look back.

_TJ Kippen is a liar, and he’s lying to himself when he says he’s not terrified by what Kira could retaliate with. Before he knew better, before he got better at being completely concealed, he thought she was someone he could be vulnerable with. Obviously, he was wrong. _

It isn’t until the final bell when he meets Amber in front of the school, do his hands finally stop shaking. 

“I think someone wants to talk to you.” She drawls, and he turns, expecting to see Kira, but she’s nowhere to be seen. In her place, is Reed, looking more disheveled than he’s ever seen him, his normally perfectly styled hair out of place, dark bags under his eyes.

_The guise of Reed’s friendship was a delusion, a way of excusing the behavior he’s dealt with since that one stupid night._

“I’ll wait over here.” Amber’s expression is blank, but her tone betrays her, tighter than usual. 

“No.”

“No?”

“Let’s go home.” 

Amber has question marks in her eyes, but she listens to him, and they walk out of the schoolyard.

_He doesn’t look back._

“What is up with you?” Amber’s momentary silence is broken as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Teej, this week? It just feels like you’re a different person.” 

_Is that so bad? What’s good about him now? What’s good about self-deception?_

“I broke up with Kira.” He replies, half as an explanation, half as a way to stop this line of conversation. Because it will inevitably lead to Cyrus, and he isn’t sure he’s ready for that.

“You what?” Amber’s trying to hide her glee, TJ can tell. He appreciates the effort. 

“I broke up with her.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool, cool, cool.” Her voice is almost shrill, at this point. “So, what was the rea—”

“How did you know you _loved _Andi?”

If Amber is surprised by the interruption, or the extreme to which TJ’s question implies, it doesn’t show. “Teej, I can’t lie to her.”

“Oh.” 

“I really like her, TJ. I think she likes me too.” 

“No shit, it’s kind of a match made by the universe.” 

He’s never known his sister to like the concept of soulmates, her overall cynicism tends to override any sort of universal signs of true love, but now, it feels different. It feels like she’s found something their family has always lacked.

_He’s not sure how to feel about that. Because they were never taught that love conquers all, they were taught that love is a forest fire, devastating, destructive, leaving an emptiness in its wake. Amber, for all her cynicism and sarcastic quips, has always been the more optimistic. _

“Don’t talk about all that shit, though. Love isn’t really the word I’m looking for here. We’ve been in some sort of romantic dalliance for like, three days.”

“Dalliance?”

“Shut up.”

Their banter has always been easy, but TJ knows that Amber recognized his diversion, and is giving him time to finally reveal himself. She’s always been more patient than she seems. 

“I think I’m gay.” He’s considered this for months, thinking it over to an extreme extent, sleepless nights full of the harsh fluorescents of convenience stores and wondering why it had to be him, why he couldn’t be fucking normal. 

Amber doesn’t look surprised, just sad. “Teej-”

“I’m not finished.” There’s a sudden pit of anger in his stomach, and it’s welcome because it isn’t fear. “This entire fucking time, with Kira, I’ve been thinking that she cares about people, she just can’t show it. That she cares about me. But she doesn’t.”

They’re almost home, he can tell by the way the lawns have become increasingly more pristine and the people are beginning to stare at them in judgment. 

“What’s the point? Reed is my best friend and he can’t go two days without trying to beat my face in.”

“But why?” Amber’s confusion is written across her face. “Why would he-”

“Because I was in love with him. Because God fucking forbid he like someone who isn’t a girl, because he knew I wouldn’t fight back.”

He’s lost the fire in his stomach, all that’s left is this feeling that nothing is right in his life, not even what he was once so content with. His next words are near murmur, a hollow whisper. 

“Because he loved me, I think.”

TJ is sick of being the liar, he’s sick of being the loyal friend, and he’s sick of pretending that he perseveres as the world keeps spinning. Because he has always been there, in the wake of the hurricane, stranded. 

Amber tugs him, almost roughly, and he becomes vaguely aware that they’re at their door of vintage oak, and he’s crying.

She doesn’t look sad anymore, in fact, his sister his almost smiling. “I’m so proud of you, TJ. I know you don’t see it, but I think one day you’ll realize how strong you are.” 

TJ doesn’t have the energy to refute what is clearly an incorrect statement, so he just shrugs off his backpack and sits down on the couch. 

Amber turns on the television, switching to Netflix and choosing a movie for them to watch. Normally, this is an extensive process, in which they argue over what to choose. But today, he has no protest when she switches on _The Parent Trap_, which they both have a strong fondness for, and he has no protest when she sits next to him, pulling his head to her shoulder. He can feel her body wracking with quiet sobs, but the origin of them is unclear.

_He’s never been more grateful that it’s them against the world. _

In the morning, he feels less numb, like a weight has been lifted, or at least shared. First block doesn’t feel so hard when he isn’t pretending to be someone he’s not.

And then the bell rings, and he exits the class, and he sees Cyrus.

Cyrus, with beautiful eyes.

Cyrus, who maybe, one day, he could love.

Cyrus, so unfalteringly sweet. 

Cyrus, who is now so clearly hiding a bruise directly speckled against his cheekbone. _Fuck._

“What happened?”

He tries not to take Cyrus flinching personally, but it’s hard, considering the bruise is probably his fault.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

“Was it Reed?”

Cyrus doesn’t answer, which is all the confirmation TJ needs. 

It’s oh-so coincidental who happens to emerge from a neighboring classroom. Speak of the devil. 

Cyrus knows what TJ is thinking, his expression almost comically aghast. “You really don’t have to-” He starts, shaking his head, but TJ is already shrugging off his backpack and setting his books on the ground.

Reed turns around at the noise, recognition dawning on his face as he sees the anger that’s dancing in TJ’s eyes. 

He’s been in the eye of the storm for so long, why can’t he become it? Isn’t it someone else’s turn to be left in the wake of the consequences. 

“Kippen! How’s it ha-” He doesn’t have time to finish the sentence, the useless colloquialism that TJ has grown to despise. Too busy getting shoved against a locker, which he totally deserves, by the way.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

“What?”

Reed actually looks scared, like TJ is gonna talk about _that night_.

_That night, the one where everything got royally fucked up, he arrives at Reed’s party late. He’s spotted almost immediately. _

_“TJ!” Reed’s voice is surprisingly softer than usual, even though he’s yelling. “Kippen!” It’s clear, at first glance, that he’s trashed. _

_“Hey.” He’s somewhat off-put by Reed’s wolfish grin, which consumes his features and makes him look like a very intoxicated version of the Cheshire Cat. _

_“We all missed you, man.” Reed leans his arm on TJ’s shoulder, leading him around the extremely crowded house party. “I missed you.” It comes off as a joke, but Reed has leaned in so close, TJ can smell the alcohol on his breath. _

_“C’mon, I wanna show you something.” _

_TJ follows him up the spiral staircase and into his room. It’s immaculate. Reed is a lot of things, but he isn’t a slob. Everything has to look a certain way, be in a certain order. It’s not dissimilar to the way he controls his life. _

_“What did you wanna show me?” TJ tries to never come up here, he absolutely despises Reed’s house. Everything feels so off. Like he’s the flaw in an otherwise perfect equation. Like he’s looking in a window that should be closed. _

_“This!” Reed is gleefully excited, brandishing what TJ quickly realizes is a fucking firearm. _

_“Dude.” He’s struggling to keep the panic out of his voice. “Let me see!” _

_Reed hands him the weapon, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet, and TJ checks the safety. _

_OFF. _

_He’s shaking now, and his hands work of their own accord, putting the safety back into place and putting the weapon far out of Reed’s reach. _

_“What the fuck?” Reed’s more confused than angry, and TJ finds himself scanning his expression, looking for any sort of malicious intent. But all he sees is a stupid, drunk, high schooler. _

_“What were you gonna do with that, huh? Shoot a champagne bottle?” He can’t keep the edge out of his voice. “You could have fucking hurt someone, you could have hurt yourself.” _

_“Don’t be a buzzkill.” TJ has never seen Reed’s expression so guarded, which is a large accomplishment considering how much his best friend hides from him, and how fucking drunk he is. _

_“I’m not being a fucking buzzkill, I just don’t want you to hurt any-” _

_And then Reed’s lips are on his, and he’s lost his train of thought. _

_For a second, for the briefest of seconds, he wants to return the kiss. But Reed is drunk, and he’ll never remember this. TJ isn’t even sure if he wants him to. _

_He pushes him off, more violently than he intends, leaving Reed alone in his bedroom, in his stupid house party. TJ takes the gun with him, throws it off the pier as he walks home alone. _

_The next day, Reed doesn’t show up. Kira says something about his parents coming home early, how his dad called him some sort of slur in front of the entire party. _

_She isn’t very bothered, which is no surprise. But TJ is._

Now he suddenly feels like Reed deserves it a lot less.

His anger dissipates, gone as quickly as it came because Reed is scared. He acts irrationally because of it, almost abusively, but he’s terrified. Because he grew up with a deathly strict father because he was never allowed to be anything other than a carbon copy of the man who made his entire childhood a period of numbness. 

TJ feels the expensive material of Reed’s Supreme hoodie, the look of fear in his old best friend’s eyes, and lets go of him. 

_A week ago, hell, on Monday, the roles could have been reversed. But he’s done. _

TJ pushes his way through the crowd, past a very confused Cyrus, and is out the school doors as quick as possible. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s far out of the school zone, at a small public park on the outskirts of his and Amber’s neighborhood. 

He’s texting Amber an explanation when he hears the rustle of footsteps and heavy breathing. 

“Couldn’t you have stopped sooner?” Cyrus is panting, looking adorably exhausted. “I tend to reserve any sort of physical exertion for, well, never.” 

TJ can’t summon any response but a halfhearted smile, and he hates how Cyrus’s energy fades at the reaction. 

“Are you okay?” Cyrus’s voice is soft, and he looks so vulnerable, like he’s letting TJ in on some sort of long-held secret. _It’s hard to believe they only really met a week ago. _

“You ever feel like no one really knows you?” TJ is so sick of being an angst ridden teenage cliche, so stuck in what he’s decided he has to be. “I’m so tired, Cy.” 

Cyrus visibly relaxes at the nickname. “It’s okay to let people see you, you know.”

He’s suddenly aware of the slightly smaller boy reaching out his hand, which TJ takes with a slight reluctance. “It’s both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so deeply.”

“Confucius?”

“Mickey Mouse.” Cyrus’s laugh (at his own joke, adorably) is infectious, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget where they are. “C’mon, Teej,” he adds the nickname with a soft sort of glee, “let’s go on the swings.” 

Cyrus’s hand is soft, comfortable. Like TJ is meant to hold it. And, to his credit, he does. Even when they’ve arrived at the swing set and sway meaninglessly from side to side.

“I don’t skip school very often,” Cyrus says, whether or not it’s to himself or TJ is somewhat unclear, “or ever.” 

For some reason, that’s the tipping point. That’s what leads TJ to place his hand on Cyrus’s shirt and tug him closer. It’s what leads TJ to press his lips to Cyrus’s, and it’s what leads to the wonderful flurry of butterflies in his stomach, something that has slumbered so long. 

Cyrus, to his credit, relaxes into it almost immediately, and God, it’s like something has clicked into place. 

“So,” Cyrus says when they break the kiss, both breathless. 

“So.” TJ echoes and he has to admit, he’s smiling more than he has in months. 

There's so much left to be resolved, things left unresolved. He's here, with Cyrus, but with so much left to figure out. For once, he has no need for a quick fix. Maybe that's okay.


End file.
